


I’m never on time

by OnlySkyAboveMe



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, Fluff, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 00:09:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16294586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlySkyAboveMe/pseuds/OnlySkyAboveMe
Summary: Life goes on, though not always punctuallyOr5 times they’re late, and 1 time they’re not (sort of)





	I’m never on time

_One Hour Late_

Their fingers are interlocked as they run hand in hand down the last stretch of sidewalk towards the hotel, now officially a whole hour late to their own wedding reception.

“Come on Tess, we’re so late.”

Scott pulls on his wife’s hand as they climb the decadent stone steps. He hears Tessa swear behind him and her hand suddenly drops from his. He immediately comes to a halt and turns around to see what’s happened. She’s standing on one leg in the middle of the steps, holding one of her shoes in one hand and the heel of it in the other. She frowns at the shoe as if it has personally wronged her (which it has, in a way) then snorts with laughter and shakes her head, meeting his eyes with a look of amused resignation that yet another thing has gone wrong today.

First, there was no hot water at their apartment, so Scott and the groomsmen had ended up going down to a local gym to shower. Then, Charlotte had showed up with her mother to get ready with the rest of the bridal party sporting a black eye from the previous weekend’s soccer game. During the ceremony, a floral arrangement had clattered to the floor in the middle of the prayers. Thankfully it didn’t hit anyone in the congregation, but it did cause Quinn and Billie-Rose to laugh uncontrollably for several minutes. Then, they’d got caught up in Montreal’s infamous summertime roadworks and subsequent traffic jams. And, to top it all off, the vintage Rolls Royce they’d been travelling in had broken down, which is how they ended up running three blocks to the reception venue.

With a sigh, she bends down and removes the intact shoe from her other foot, trying to keep her gown from trailing on the floor. Seconds later Scott sweeps her off her feet and into his arms, and she cannot contain her giggles as he walks up the rest of the steps into the hotel. Giggles turn into full blown belly laughs as he negotiates the revolving door, leaving the concierge and the receptionist behind the desk in the lobby looking utterly bemused as he whisks them away to the ballroom, where the rest of their guests are waiting for them.

Tessa knows the teasing is going to be endless the moment they enter the ballroom. Every person seated at the head table containing their parents, siblings, groomsmen and bridesmaids watches them as they approach. Expressions range from amused, to knowing, to downright sneaky (thanks Danny). She’s pretty sure she sees money changing hands between Jordan and Joe, and Chiddy is mouthing something and raising his eyebrows at the table across the way, which contains their skating family.

“Nice of you lovebirds to finally join us,” Chiddy smirks and waggles his eyebrows as Scott pulls out Tessa’s chair.

“The car broke down,” Scott mutters through his teeth, helping Tessa with her skirt as she takes her seat, taking his own afterwards with his hands raised in apology at their assembled guests. Tessa avoids her sister’s attempts to get her attention and stares resolutely at her place card, feeling her expression soften when she sees her new, hyphenated surname written in beautiful calligraphy on the thick ivory card. Scott reaches over to pick it up, smiling as he inspects it and squeezes her knee gently under the table, he too ignoring their family members leaning forward trying to get their attention.Fortunately, the wine and the food arrive and everyone is too occupied consuming it to tease them any further. They think they’re in the clear and that the moment has passed, until Chiddy stands up for his Best Man’s speech.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he begins, tapping his neatly written index cards in his hands. “Now that we are _all_ here,” he drops Scott a wink, “I hope you’ll join me in a toast to the happy couple? But before we do that, I have a few words to say about my dear friends.” He pauses for a moment, looks back down at his cards, then tosses the stack over his shoulder with a flourish and a huge grin on his face. He leans forward over the table conspiratorially and says in the most dramatic stage whisper, “Have you guys heard the story about the _fourth_ Thank You Canada Tour bus?!”

Tessa and Scott exchange a look of alarm, rise from their seats in unison and cry,

“Chiddy, no!”

-

By the end of the evening Scott and Tessa are still tearing up the dancefloor, ‘Footloose’ and other classics playing loudly over the speaker system. Every couple of minutes they are interrupted as guests young and old head home, leaving just them and their fellow skaters behind. Billie-Rose is fast asleep across a few chairs in one corner, whilst her parents slow dance to their own rhythm nearby. Trennt is spinning Kaetlyn in his arms, her bare feet kicking around as she shrieks in delight, her black heels now being worn by Tessa instead.

As ‘Party Rock Anthem’ ends Tessa makes her way back to the head table to take a swig of water from her glass, and whilst her back is turned Scott nods at Chiddy. On his cue Chiddy calls out to the remaining guests,

“Taxis are here guys, drinks back Eric’s!”

Hugs and kisses are exchanged, and before long Eric and Luis, Kaet and Trennt, Chiddy and Liz, and the soon to be Pojé’s are trailing haphazardly from the ballroom.

“It was such a beautiful day, guys,” says Marie-France as she hugs them both. Patrice kisses Tessa’s cheek and shakes Scott’s hand with his free one, whilst the other holds the still sleeping Billie-Rose. “Congratulations!”

When they’re gone Scott pulls Tessa into his arms. “Dance with me,” he whispers against her cheek.

“Always.”

He twirls her onto the dance floor, situating her in the middle before hurrying over to connect his phone to the speaker system. She narrows her eyes questioningly as he returns to her and holds out his hand, the sound of gentle piano music filling the ballroom. She takes his hand but he doesn’t move, seemingly waiting for a cue in the music. It takes a moment, but she soon realises that the music that surrounds them is none other than a stripped down, acoustic version of ‘You Make My Dreams Come True’. She gasps, and his hand tightens around hers, spinning her into him until they are nose to nose.

Tears pool in the corners of her eyes as he dips her low, eyes holding hers before he pulls her back up and rests his face against her neck.

“Just us,” he whispers.

* * *

 

_Two Months Late_

She'd meant well. 

"It's the best of both worlds," Jessica had reasoned when she brought the offer to them a few weeks before the wedding. "It's fabulous publicity, you'll get final say before publication, and the pay-out is fantastic." Scott had looked incredibly sceptical, the same frown forming on his face that he used to get when reporters asked stupid questions at press conferences.

Tessa glanced sideways at him, her hand squeezing his knee under the Mulroney's dining table. "We're not sure, Jess."

"I understand, Tess. No one is forcing you, and you don't have to do it. But, Hello! are offering six figures for the rights to publish your wedding photos, and they're offering plenty to Greg and Danielle too."

Scott's eyes widened, though Tessa didn't bat an eyelid - she's far more used to sponsorship and business negotiations. She knows what she, what  _they_ , are worth and he trusts her judgement (even though he feels like their relationship is beyond monetary value). Neither of them respond to Jessica so she keeps going.

"Think about it, you could save the money and put it in a university fund; you could sponsor underprivileged kids to get the skating coaching they deserve; you could put it towards the rink?" Scott felt himself relax once these ideas had been put on the table; he felt much more comfortable about accepting the money when he considered how it could be used for something beyond themselves. He and Tessa had exhaled in unison, at which Tessa and Jessica had shared a giggle.

"Okay, we're in," he agreed.

-

"I'm sorry, Jess, it's over. We can't do this anymore." Tessa's voice carries out of the kitchen as he opens the front door and dumps his (her) Adidas backpack and skate bag on the floor in the hallway, hanging up his coat and throwing his keys into the bowl on the side table. She darts out into the hallway before he makes it to the kitchen. She looks stressed and frazzled, but relieved to see him standing there. Her knuckles are white as she holds her phone tightly to her ear, and she is chewing on her lip, which he knows is a nervous tick of hers. He can hear Jessica's voice, tinny on the other end of the phone. He reaches out for her free hand and takes it between both of his, pulling her gently towards him and kissing her temple.

"Jess, we've made our decision," she glances at Scott and he merely nods in response. He doesn't have a clue what's being discussed on the phone, but he trusts her implicitly, so is more than happy for her to be taking the lead and making decisions on their joint behalf. "I'll be in touch later, Jess," she says firmly, and a little sadly, "Scott's home now, I've got to go. Bye." She removes the phone from her ear, hanging up with a sigh, and for a moment looks like she wants to throw the device on the ground.

"Hey." He cups her chin and she raises her head to meet his eyes. He smiles at her and her entire face softens as she returns it with one of her own.

"Hey," she says, her eyes fluttering shut as she closes the distance between them, their mouths meeting in a series of chaste kisses. "I've had a bit of a day," she admits quietly, fiddling with her shirt and looking like a child admitting to breaking their mother's favourite vase.

"It sounds like it." He gestures at her phone, still clenched in her fist. "What happened?"

"Two things," she sighs and wanders back into the kitchen, pulling him by the fingers, eventually releasing him as she puts the kettle on the stove and sets about making tea. He settles on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, watching her, mesmerised as ever by the way she moves around a space. She does even the most ordinary of tasks with such flow and grace, holding herself beautifully as she goes through the motions. One evening he had watched her sort laundry for nearly an hour, enthralled by the precise way her hands and arms moved as she carefully folded underwear, facecloths and sheets, until she lobbed at towel at his head and told him to either help her fold or take it into the bathroom and she'd join him in a moment...

"Scott?" He shakes himself from this particularly happy memory and looks up. She's standing right next to him holding two boxes of tea and wearing an expression of loving exasperation.

"Sorry...uh, two things?" he points to the box of green tea in her left hand. She narrows her eyes at him, but smiles all the same, shaking her head.

"Firstly, someone - either at the venue or just a random member of the public - has leaked a blurry image of us at the wedding." His breathing stutters and his eyes shoot up to meet hers. He opens his mouth, a million questions on his lips. She gently raises her hand, a silent request that she be allowed to continue before he interjects. He uses his fingers to press his lips together, and her mouth twitches at the corner in amusement.

"Secondly," she sighs, "Hello! are still running the story, but it's being pushed to the next issue."

"What? Why? It's been two months Tess, I'm tired of keeping this a secret, why are they hanging around?"

"Have you not checked the news today?" He shakes his head, patting the pockets of his pants and wondering where he's put his phone.

"Long story short," she explains, "Kensington Palace put out a press release earlier today announcing the birth of Princess Rebecca of Sussex!"

There's a pause as Scott works out what that means.

"What?! Those sneaky..." Tessa raises her eyebrows at him and he cuts himself off. Then it dawns on him,"Did Jess know this?"

"I don't know," she bites her lip and looks conflicted.

"Tess..."

"I've told her we're out, told them to pull the story. This is our business, our marriage, our lives. I don't care about the money, I want to be back in control, Scott!" Her eyes are fierce and determined (Scott's second favourite way to see them, the first being way they shine when she does her laugh-cry).

"But what about...?" he begins.

"Greg and Danielle will be compensated as artists as per the contract. They won't lose anything, financially, and..." she sniffs and looks down at her hands, "...both of them have agreed that they'd rather we were happy in exchange for the increased exposure they would have gotten as photographers." He swallows roughly, his heart warmed and feeling so grateful and fortunate to have such loyal friends.

"So, what now?" he asks gently. She cocks her eyebrow at him and raises her phone, he chuckles. "Ah yes, Instagram."

"What else?" she shrugs. "At least we're in control then, right?" He takes her hand again and pulls her over to stand between his legs. He takes her phone and places it carefully on the counter, and they both grin when it unlocks to his face. He turns back to her and reaches up to place his hands on her cheeks, lowering her head gently down to his, staring into her eyes as their noses touch.

"I love you." He whispers it quietly at a pitch seemingly only audible to them, just as he had before and after every skate in the past four years.

“I love you too.”

 _Kissing_ , Scott thinks, _is always better when both people are smiling_.

-

She selects the photo Danielle sent her the day after the wedding. In it they're standing on the steps of the cathedral, confetti still swirling in the air around them. She had called their names to have them look back over their shoulders at the camera. Tessa looks radiantly happy, smiling broadly as she looks straight ahead over her shoulder. Scott, meanwhile, is staring at her in such adoration that when Tessa first saw the photo she let out a choked sob. Below the image she writes:

'Reader, I married him.'

#2months #Virtue-Moir #XXII

* * *

 

_Three weeks late_

**Scott** : Tess, we’re staying at the same hotel as the Leafs! How awesome is that?

 **Tessa** : It’s very awesome.

 **Scott** : I’m sorry, were you asleep?

 **Tessa** : Nearly, don’t worry though. I hope you have a great time tomorrow, say hi to Danny and Charlie from me. Love you!

 **Scott** : Thanks, babe. Love you too! Sleep well xxx

 **Tessa** : xxx

Tessa moves to place her phone down on the nightstand, but since the room is pitch black she misses and it drops to the floor with a clatter. She groans and flips on the light, leaning over the side of the bed to retrieve the device, praying that the screen won’t be smashed when she picks it up. It isn’t, thank goodness. As she moves once again to place it on her nightstand it buzzes with an alert in her hand.

 _Have you got anything to tell Clue today?_ The notification reads.

She pauses, she’d got out of the habit of using this app recently. Her doctor had recommended using a menstrual cycle tracking app when she came off birth control, mainly because she had been on some form of it since she was 15 and thus didn’t really have full understanding of her natural cycle. She had found it useful initially, even though it had been a bit useless at predicting her periods, but a year on she’s lost the motivation to input information every day. Now she just ignores the reminders until she’s actually on her period, at which point she inputs the data, still waiting for a predictable pattern to appear.

She opens the app anyway, unable to remember the last time she did so, and freezes when she sees that it’s been 50 days since her cycle began. Her heart starts to thump heavily in her chest and she leaps out of bed towards the bathroom. She kneels on the floor and practically throws items out of the cupboard under the sink, desperate to put her hands on the box she’s looking for, but it’s not there. She must have used the last one a couple of months ago and she clearly hasn’t replenished her stock since ( _fed up of the disappointment_ , she had reasoned to herself as she ignored that isle in the drug store). They’ve been so busy rehearsing and getting back in shape for the tour, as well as their coaching and sponsorship commitments, that they’ve had little time to do anything recently except eat and sleep (and not sleep). She looks at her phone again, it’s nearly one in the morning. She decides she’s not going out to buy a test at this hour, but she’ll go as soon as she wakes up.

She tosses and turns for the rest of the night, and wakes in the morning with a heavy head and, heartbreakingly, her period. She curses loudly as she digs though the still strewn items on the bathroom floor, finally locating a box of tampons and a packet of Advil. She can't face putting everything away again and can barely muster the mental strength to shower, but she goes through the motions and finally stumbles out of the apartment with just enough time to walk and meet her friends for lunch downtown.

When she meets with Lizzie, Cat and Andi 30 minutes later she is feeling suitably hot, miserable, and grumpy, as well as nursing cramps and a throbbing headache. She tries not to be bad company, updates them on her and Scott’s recent goings on, happily orders a second glass of wine with her meal, and if she has to plaster on her media smile towards the end, she hopes they don’t notice. They part ways outside the restaurant at around 3pm, the wait staff looking pleased to be rid of them. There are hugs exchanged and promises made to meet up again soon, especially as they’re all in Montreal now, but by this point Tessa is flagging and is in desperate need of some alone time before her husband gets home. Whilst Lizzie and Andi head off in the opposite direction, Cat offers to walk part of the way back with her, citing the need to run some errands in the area.

They walk quietly down the street together, Tessa keeping her eyes fixed firmly ahead and ignores mother after mother who pass them on the street holding their children’s hands, pushing them in pushchairs or carrying them in slings. It’s only when a man with dark tousled hair walks past with a tiny baby boy strapped to his chest and she trips over her own feet and nearly head-butts a street lamp that Cat softly grabs her arm and enquires whether she is okay.

She sighs deeply and nervously taps her toe on the sidewalk before raising just her watery eyes to look at Cat through her eyelashes and admit, “I got my period this morning.”

A look of deep understanding and empathy comes over Cat’s face before she pulls her into a tight hug and says, with so much conviction that Tessa feels immediately reassured, “It’ll happen, I’m sure of it.”

-

Cat is Tessa’s only real friend from her year at the Catholic high school just inside the Canadian border back when she was a teenager. Deeply religious, endlessly sweet, kind, and trusting, and endearingly innocent, and Tessa has treasured their unique friendship over the years. Cat is not pushy or forceful with her faith and never judges Tessa’s choices or opinions (she even came to worlds in 2013!). In return, Tessa is the same. She takes care not to swear in front of her too often, and, though she doesn’t sensor herself around Cat, she remains acutely aware that she doesn’t want to offend her or make her feel uncomfortable. All this considered, when Tessa receives her text messages later that evening, curled up on the couch and watching the same hockey game on the TV that Scott and his brothers are watching live in Vancouver, she has to double check who has sent them.

 **Cat** : Hi Tessie. I couldn’t stop thinking about you after I left today. I’m really sorry that you’re feeling so frustrated and upset.

 **Cat** : Did I ever tell you that it took me and Paul 3 years to have Josiah? We even considered IVF at one stage, which I know our parents weren’t very keen on.

 **Cat** : On day, I just felt so mad, so frustrated that nothing was happening and that we had no answers and no guidance on what to do next. So, I went on the internet and googled tips on how to get pregnant. Eventually I found this brief article that talked about the most evolutionarily efficient way to conceive. It said that because our ancestors were once the hunted, and the need to reproduce was vital, that the most likely way in which they conceived would be after quick, urgent intercourse whilst practically on the run. The article suggested stealing away somewhere you might get caught for a quickie, caveman style!

 **Cat** : I was desperate by this point and, yeah, I’m 99% sure Josiah was conceived in the accessible toilet in the church hall after midnight mass…

 **Cat** : I’m so sorry if this is TMI, but I’ve felt how you were feeling today, and it sucks. And I wish I’d had a friend to talk to about it back then, who might have been able to give me advice and encouragement like this. I mean, it might not work for you, and maybe we got lucky? But, think about it I guess?

 **Cat** : Anyway, I better go before I regret this and delete all of these messages! I love you Tess, don’t give up, don’t give in, things will happen eventually! x

Tessa stares at the messages in disbelief for a moment, then doubles over in hysterical laughter, her hot water bottle falling out of her lap and onto the floor, tears streaming down her face.

* * *

 

_Four Hours Late_

Tessa stands backstage with her hands on her hips and surveys the scene before her. Meagan is in one corner doing yoga, eyes closed and headphones in her ears. Kaetlyn and Eric are stretching and chatting away to one side, discussing their respective wedding plans. Kaitlyn and Andrew are in the hallway, walking through a section of choreography they’re trying to adjust. Elvis is getting hooked up with a microphone by the sound technician as he sits and ties the stage manager's hockey skates onto his own feet. Patrick is helping some of the crew carry a roll of carpet from a storage room towards the curtain into the main arena. And Scott is pacing in and out of the doorway, her phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder whilst typing away on his own, most likely to his uncle at the shop or his mother at the rink.

Of all the flight cases to get accidentally left behind at the last tour stop, it had to be the one that contained all of their skates. They’d only discovered what had happened a few hours ago when Paul had showed up with his gear to fix a screw on Chiddy’s skates and bring a new set of blades for Scott after he’d tripped (again) on a set of concrete steps last night. After 30 minutes of searching, and multiple phone calls to the previous venue and the truck driver (who was meant to be sleeping in order to drive again tonight) it was established that their skates were about four hours away from them in current traffic conditions, and this was with three hours to show time.

She can feel herself getting tense, and the sounds of plastic chairs being folded up and down, shoes squeaking on the concourse, and children shouting out in the arena are doing nothing to help this. They’re here in London, on their last tour before taking a potentially permanent hiatus, and they’re trying to put on an ice skating show (which cannot be cancelled) without any ice skates! She almost wants to laugh at the irony of it all, but out of the corner of her eye she can see Scott hang up, shove both phones into his pockets and lean dejectedly against the door frame, his head in his hands.

She makes her way over to him quickly, noticing his knees are trembling slightly and his fists are clenched – he’s trying to keep it together, and he’s struggling. She can read the thoughts swirling in his head from his body language alone, doesn’t need to look into his eyes to see that he feels like they’ve failed, that they shouldn’t have pushed their luck with this tour, that they were being cocky in their pursuit of one last hurrah.

“Hey,” she rubs her hand up and down his back, then wrapping it tightly round his shoulder as she feels his entire body begin to sag in defeat. She pulls him gently, steering him into the nearby locker room and guiding him to sit down on the bench. “Scott, look at me.” She’s crouched in front of him with her hands on his knees, thumbs rubbing small soothing circles against his sweatpants. “We’ll figure it out.” He finally looks at her, and begins to nod his head along with her, his body relaxing instantly at her reassurance. “What’s the ETA on the skates?”

“Realistically another 45 minutes, there’s no point in my Mom or Paul bringing over any spares at this stage.” He sighs, looking away from her and down at his hands. “But when they get here we still need to get mine and Chiddy’s fixed, and we need to warm up, and then show will finish late, and…”

“Okay,” she interrupts him before he gets himself worked up again. “So, we need to keep the crowd entertained for about an hour before the show can think about starting? That’s fine, we can do that.” She thinks back to Stars On Ice in 2018, when they’d both skated out onto the ice to fill the time as Elvis got ready to re-do his number. She looks down at the rings on her left hand and thinks that it’ll probably be a little less awkward this time round. “Elvis is getting mic’d up right now, so we can at least start on time, even if it’s not the real show yet. Chiddy and the crew have found the roll of carpet, so we can use that. We’ll think on our feet, get creative.”

“Tessa? Scott?” There’s a knock at the door as a young, unfamiliar voice calls their names.

“Yes, come in,” Tessa calls out, glancing at Scott curiously. She watches his face light up as Layla and Alex walk into the locker room, both wearing jackets over their costumes and holding their skates in their hands.

“Perfect” he cries, standing immediately and hurrying towards them, bustling them out of the locker room and towards the ice, talking at breakneck speed about the situation and how they’re going to rectify it. She’s left there, still crouched down by the bench, smiling and shaking her head fondly, in awe at his ability to suddenly turn this situation around.

-

**_London Audience get thrice the thrill at Farewell Canada Tour show_ **

Annika Johnson, London, Ont.

_A sold-out crowd at the Budweiser Arena got more than they bargained for last night as the 36-stop Farewell Canada Tour landed in London. Due to an unforeseen issue involving the temporary misplacement of the cast’s skates, the crowd were treated to an additional hour of entertainment before the planned show began in earnest 90 minutes later than originally scheduled._

_Nearby Ilderton Skating Club’s own Layla Veillon and Alex Brandys were the stars of the unscheduled addition to the show, performing their competitive routines as well as providing compulsory demonstrations as local heroes Tessa Virtue-Moir and Scott Moir gave a short, impromptu seminar on the technical aspects of ice dance. After this, the young skaters took a break and the rest of the cast rolled out the red carpet (literally) and invited audience members down to the ice to take part in an ‘add-on’ dance contest._

_This alternative first act ended with a flash mob/karaoke session led by Scott Moir and Eric Radford, who wowed the crowd with hits such as ‘YMCA’, ‘Macarena’ and ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. Video of the latter number was shared by Queen’s own rock legend, Brian May, on social media shortly after the end of the show._

_During the first of two intermissions, the crowd were able to watch the skaters warm up, their skates having safely arrived just minutes before. The show continued as previous billed from there on out, with another performance from Layla and Alex in the second intermission, performing their exhibition routine to ‘Dream A Little Dream Of Me’. The first act saw the cast skate to compilations of their medal winning routines, highlights being 2019 World Champions Kaitlyn and Andrew Poj_ _é_ _performing to a mash up of ‘SOS, d’un terrien en detresse’ and ‘Je suis malade’, and Tessa and Scott’s reimagining of two decades of routines set to Moulin Rouge’s ‘Elephant Love Medley’._

_The final part of the show took the form of a one act play, and featured all the skaters performing together. The crowd were left buzzing despite the late hour, with the crew and skaters still in the arena at 2am once the meet and greets were over and the lights and staging had been taken down._

_A full recording of the touring show will be aired at 5pm on Christmas Eve on TSN, and will be released digitally and on Blu-Ray in the New Year._

_The tour is sold out nationwide, but check with your local arena for returns. You don’t want to miss this!_

* * *

 

_Five Minutes Late_

Tessa yanks him into his parents’ linen closet as he is walking unsuspectingly back from the upstairs bathroom. She pulls the door shut behind them and they are nose to nose, her nude high heels eliminating their natural height distance. Her eyes burn into his with an intensity and determination he hasn’t seen for a while, and rarely off the ice.

Scott can’t decide whether the situation is sexy or not; trapped in a tiny closet that smells overwhelmingly of his childhood, a box of worn stuffed animals sitting high up on one of the shelves. She clears her throat, and he lowers his eyes, taking her in in the little space they have between them. She has undone the wrap dress she’s wearing to reveal a set of green lacy lingerie that he doesn’t remember having seen before. He swallows roughly and licks his lips, gaze returning to hers.

“Tess…” he begins, but she shuts him up by capturing his lips in a kiss so hard that the breath is almost knocked out of him. _Oh, we’re doing this, here_.

“The cake will be out soon,” she breaths against his mouth a brief moment later, “be quick.”

He has barely inclined his head in a nod before her hands are undoing his belt and zipper. Within seconds he is inside her, thrusting hard and fast as they fuck against the stacks of guest towels and his old set of Maple Leafs sheets. It’s hot and it’s fast, and he is vaguely aware of the first lines of ‘Happy Birthday’ being sung from the kitchen as he comes, hard.

He feels momentarily embarrassed by the speed at which things had escalated and then concluded, but she smirks at him as she wraps her dress around herself, tucks her hair back behind her ears and straightens her necklace. He fumbles with his zipper and belt, aware that they need to be in the kitchen at this very moment.

“To be continued,” she said as she takes his hand in hers and leads him out of the closet and down the hall to the kitchen, managing to slot themselves in at the back of the large crowd of family and friends gathered for his father’s 65thbirthday, joining in the applause as Joe blows out his candles. Scott wraps his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder, and she moves her head to rest against his.

“Make a wish, Tess” he whispers in her ear.

* * *

 

_On time…kind of_

Scott knew that Tessa loved to make schedules and stick to them, but he had been somewhat alarmed and taken aback when her contractions started as if on cue, just after midnight on the day of her due date. _It figures though_ , he had thought to himself as he gathered their hospital bag and helped her into the car, _this kid is half Virtue_.

67 hours of labour and an emergency C-section later he realises this kid is truly a Moir; a troublemaker who keeps people waiting, but has a cute face to make up for it! The birth plan had been abandoned ages ago, a physically exhausted Tessa begging for a C-section when, 62 hours in, she was still only at 8cm and their baby was starting to show signs of distress. She no longer cared about scars, no longer feared the epidural needle, she just wanted their baby safely in their arms.

Delirious with elation and fatigue, he and Tessa now sit on the bed together in the recovery ward staring blissfully at their daughter’s sleeping face, her head of dark hair covered by an adorable hat with little teddy bear ears, swaddled in a yellow and grey polka dot blanket.

“Well,” he says, smiling fondly as his shining eyes meet Tessa’s, “That was dramatic!”

Tessa starts to laugh, which earns them both a glare from the nurse pottering about in the corner of the room. It’s a look that says, “you won’t be laughing when that epidural wears off” and they both stop abruptly, turning back to stare at the infant in their arms as she stirs, wrinkles her nose and begins to make little sucking motions with her lips.

-

A short time later, when they are all settled into their private room and their daughter has been fed, changed, and – most importantly – named, Scott sits reclined in the chair next to the bed where Tessa is fast asleep, his loving gaze alternating between the two most precious women in his life.

Looking between them he cannot help but chuckle quietly to himself. Tessa is curled on her side, hands pillowed under her head, her dark hair fanned around her face and her mouth open slightly, breathing deeply ( _not snoring, Scott!_ ). On his bare chest lies Elise, one arm pillowed under her head, more dark hair peeking out from underneath the hat that has slipped off a little, her tiny mouth open as she too breathes deeply, a steady tempo slightly faster than that of her mother’s.

He lets the sound of their peaceful slumbers wash over him, accompanied by the ticks of metronomic certainty from the clock hung above the door. Dropping a kiss to Elise’s impossibly soft head then adjusting her hat he looks back over to his wife and says, in that same hushed tone he’d used on the ice not so long ago,

“You were worth the wait.”


End file.
